


(there on) the old park bench

by bail



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bail/pseuds/bail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cook moves closer to David, their knees bumping awkwardly together. AU High School fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(there on) the old park bench

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** David Cook, David Archuleta and et al. belong to themselves. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** The story can also be read at my [fic journal](http://bail.livejournal.com/2001.html) over at livejournal. Thanks to [yehwellwhatever](http://yehwellwhatever.livejournal.com/) for beta'ing for me! This was written by request of [asmallsmackerel](http://asmallsmackerel.livejournal.com/).

It's mid-spring already, the sun slowly but surely making an appearance on the sky more than twice a week now, and the harsh cold wind has turned into a light breeze that can still make you shiver if you are caught in the middle of it.

David glances at his watch, hand reaching up to adjust the strap of his backpack that keeps on riding down his shoulder. It's five in the afternoon already, and he only has about one more hour before he needs to go home. Dinner is always served at six-thirty, and David is not good a being late. Not that his parents would do much about it, to be honest, he knows that, because Claudia tends to be late for dinner every day without anything happening. But yeah, David likes rules. Rules are there for a reason. Rules are meant to be followed. Except Cook isn't all that fond of rules, and thinks that rules are there to be broken.

He sighs and finally moves to sit on the empty bench. It's slightly in the shadows and is located a bit into a secluded corner, which means that it's _cold_. But it's the only one around that is not already occupied by someone. He lets the strap fall down his shoulder, and the school-bag lands on the asphalt with a noisy thump. Which reminds him that he totally has Cook's CD in the bag. He pulls at the zipper, slowly opening the bag, afraid to check if he has broken the CD cover. Thankfully, it's still intact, except for that tiny crack on the front that was already there when Cook gave it to him three days ago in the canteen.

> ("Here," Cook had said, and handed him a CD. David had accepted it, turned it over in his hands and then looked at Cook, uncertain as to why Cook had just given him a CD.
> 
> "Um," he had said, confused, cheeks turning slightly red as his friends observed the exchange between the freshman and the senior with a mixture of amused and shocked expressions. "Why?" he had asked, nervous and surprised, and looked down at the CD in his hands.
> 
> "I figured you would appreciate it," Cook had just said, shrugging as the corner of his lips had curled up into a smirk. And then he had left, gone over to his fellow senior friends at the other end of the canteen. David had followed Cook with his eyes, blushing as Danny made a mocking sound about the unexpected exchange that had just taken place in front of everyone.
> 
> "What the fuck just happened here?" asked Allison, moving from the other side of the table to sit next to David, punching his shoulder as she always did when greeting him. It had hurt like heck, and he had been sore during his English and Calculus classes. And David had not been able to provide an answer as he too was clueless.)

  
He zips his bag, the CD safely tucked into the side pocket once again. And when he looks up once more, he finally sees Cook walking down the path towards him, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans. David pulls at the hem of his jacket, wrapping his arms around himself in the process. It helps, a bit at least, and though he's still in the shadows, it makes him feel a bit warmer. And it has nothing to do with Cook coming closer, nothing to do with Cook at all. Although, David thinks, maybe just a tiny bit.

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry I'm late," says Cook, dropping down on the bench next to him. David looks at him, smiling shyly at the older boy. For some reason, being around Cook makes him blush constantly and stammer and be all awkward and shy all the time. Well, more than usual. David is a pretty shy person by default. He knows that, his friends know that, his family knows that. Heck, even Cook knows that because both Allison and Danny had thought it was their job as best friends to let Cook know a thing or two about David. He is positive that something else had been said between his two friends and Cook, but none of the three had wanted to share the details of that specific conversation with him.

"It's okay," he says. And he means it.

"So," says Cook and glances at David. And then Cook casually rests his left arm on the bench, hand only an inch or so away from David's shoulder. David swallows, a bit nervous and giddy at the same time. He still hasn't managed to figure out why someone like David Cook would want to spend time with someone like him.

"So?" he says back, tilting his head slightly to the side, confused. Cook glances at him as if David is supposed to know what Cook means, but he doesn't know what Cook hopes to hear him say.

"You never did tell me what you thought of the CD," Cook says, and David unconsciously touches the zipper of his bag.

"It was..." the words trail off as he tries to find the proper words to describe his thoughts. Cook raises one eyebrow and smiles, and David quickly opens his bag and pulls out the CD once again, though this time instead of checking for any cracks on the cover he hands it to Cook. "It was different. I mea-mean," and there comes the stammering again. He blushes so hard that he is positive even the tips of his ears are turning red now, "it was _good_ , I really liked it, the lyrics were really great. Like seriously great and..."

Usually, whenever he blushes or seems unable to say a word without stammering, Cook just smiles that smile that makes David's knees go all weak. But this time Cook is laughing at him. David frowns, even more confused now than he was when Cook had appeared by his side during lunch three days ago.

"What?" he asks, shyly and voice barely audible.

Cook smirks, "Sorry for laughing. I didn't mean to. You just seemed so into it and I thought it was cute," he says, shrugging as if it's entirely normal for one guy to call another guy cute. David certainly doesn't think so.

"Cute?" he asks, and clears his throat. Sure, his mom and all of her friends call him cute constantly - which is very annoying, thank you very much - but to hear Cook call him cute seems so _wrong_ , because David kind of does not want Cook to be thinking of David as a five-year-old, which cute basically means. Right?

"Yeah," Cook says, his eyes softening as he turns a bit on the bench, his right arm reaching out to press the CD up against David's chest while his left hand, which had moments before been resting on the bench, now reaches out to gently cup David's cheek. "Yeah," Cook says again, " _cute_."

"Oh," David says, teeth pulling in his lower-lip and he nibbles on the plump flesh as he thinks about this. " _Oh_ , um," he adds when he realizes what this means.

Cook moves closer to David, their knees bumping awkwardly together. David's breath hitches in his throat and he cannot for the life of him stop staring at their jeans clad legs.

"Neal will be happy to hear that you liked the lyrics," whispers Cook. David has no idea why Cook is now whispering, because they are sitting in a pretty secluded, cold and completely in the shadows, part of the park, and the chances of anyone hearing them isn't all that great. Still, the low tone makes him shiver. And then Cook continues, "though I'm more interested in hearing what you thought of the vocals."

David turns his head and looks at Cook, finding himself relaxing and smiling as he sees how nervous Cook looks.

"The vocals were amazing," he whispers shyly and leans his head slightly into Cooks hand, which is still touching his cheek.

"Yeah?" Cook says, and David sees as Cook's eyes averts down to his lips and then back up again. David swallows.

"Mm," he hums, nodding slowly. It feels weird with his cheek pressed against Cook's big, warm hand, but also kind of nice. Well, more than just kind of, if he has to be honest. Cook grins, and David finds himself blushing and lowering his eyes down to Cook's lips.

And then Cook leans forward, slowly but steadily, and David leans hesitantly forward too, excited and anxious at the same time. They stop just before their lips touch, their breaths mingling together in the cold air. David looks up from Cook's lips to find that the other boy is staring at him, silently asking for permission. David doesn't say anything. Instead, he just leans forward until their lips are pressed together gently in a sweet kiss. Cook doesn't need to ask him for permission to kiss him, because David has kind of wanted to kiss the senior ever since he first heard the CD back in his room three days ago, ever since he first heard Cook's voice filling his head with sweet words and promises of more to come.

They break apart, both breathing heavily. David feels flushed, his scarf almost too warm around his neck. And this time it's definitely because of Cook.

 _fin._


End file.
